Starting Over
by Eleven Eleven
Summary: When your world seems to end, all you can do is start again. (nothing new, just reloaded the chapter)


A/N. I never intended to write a story like this, but my computer was open, and a weird impulse just took over my fingers! It's very weird, as you'll soon see. I don't even like it that much, but I thought I'd post it anyways. Besides, I was high on candy canes while writing this! Plus listening to Pink's Family Portrait. Plus watching Once And Again reruns.  
  
Disclaimer- Zoë, Zack and Sophia are made up, and so is this story. Anything else is already claimed by someone or other.  
  
Beta-read by: Montana Magic (who else? lol Thanks, MM!)  
  
Starting Over  
  
The Beginning Of The End  
  
Zoë cracked open her bedroom door just enough to let the muffled voices become clear as they seeped in and surrounded her.  
  
"...we could keep seeing the damn woman for God knows how long, and it still wouldn't work!"  
  
"Because you refuse to let it work! All you care about is yourself!"  
  
"Excuse me?! I refuse to let it work?! Seeing as I attend half the sessions alone..."  
  
And on it went. Zoë closed the door silently and edged back to her bed. It was only 9.30pm. She usually fell asleep around 10, but lately, she found that if she went to bed earlier, she could avoid the arguments. Today, she hadn't been so lucky. Climbing under the covers, she found herself looking at the picture that had been up on her wall since forever. It depicted herself, at age four, being held by her father. Her mother had her arm around the two of them. All three were beaming at the camera. Where were those days?  
  
Zoë sighed. It was true, that was almost a decade ago. But what she was trying to pinpoint, was the exact moment when her parents had started arguing. Searching deep into the recesses of her mind, there was no answer. It had just...happened. Gradually increasing over the years, to the point where they could no longer be in the same room without some sort of dispute breaking out.  
  
The sound of a door slamming brought her back to reality, as she sat, almost afraid in the silence that followed. A car started up outside, and then backed out of the drive. It roared down the street as if it couldn't get out of there fast enough. She had no idea what had just happened. One of her parents had obviously departed, but was it for good? Would they be back the following day? Was it her dad or her mom?  
  
She sat in the dark, watching the strip of light under her door, waiting for the remaining parent to come into her room, and explain or even comfort her, but no one came. Instead, padding footsteps entered the room down the hall, and the light switched off, signalling that whoever was still in the house had gone to bed. Pulling the blanket over her head, Zoë curled herself into a ball and cried herself to sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, the thirteen-year-old entered the kitchen to find a silent breakfast awaiting her. Her mom stood at the stove, fiddling with something. Her younger brother sat at the table, spooning cereal into his mouth, his eyes fixed on the comic book lying open in front of him. Sliding into her place, she gazed at the empty chair to her left. She figured that now was as good as any time to ask.  
  
"Where's Dad?"  
  
Her question cut through the silence like a knife through skin, leaving a deep sense of pain in its wake.  
  
Val turned to face her daughter.  
  
"Out."  
  
"Out where?" Zoë pressed on.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"When will he be back?"  
  
Val took a deep breath to regain her composure.  
  
"I don't know," she repeated, turning back to the stove, a sign that the conversation was finished.  
  
Zoë stared at her mother for awhile, before switching her gaze to the cereal in front of her. It looked like sawdust. Her stomach turned at the sight of it.  
  
"Mom, I'm not hungry."  
  
She stood up from the table, grabbing her bag from the floor.  
  
Her mother turned around again, pointing to the untouched bowl.  
  
"You will sit, and you will eat," she stated in a firm voice.  
  
"But I don't want it!"  
  
"Zoë! You have to eat something for breakfast!"  
  
"But I'm not hungry!" Zoë knew she was beginning to sound slightly immature, but she couldn't help it.  
  
Val pushed her hair out of her face, her patience beginning to wear thin.  
  
"Your last meal was last night's dinner! How can you not be hungry?!"  
  
"I'm just not!" Zoë could sense the beginnings of a fight with her mother creeping up. Lately, there had been a lot of them. "I'll eat at school."  
  
"Exactly what will you eat at school?"  
  
Zoë glanced around desperately, spying the fruit bowl. She snatched up the lone apple, lying amongst the patterned glass.  
  
"This! I'll eat this on the way to school. I promise. I have to go!" Shouldering her bag, she raced out of the door before her mom could say anything else.  
  
Val watched her eldest walk down the driveway, her eyes pricking with tears. It had been a petty argument, but it had happened anyway.  
  
Six-year-old Zack, who had been watching the scene with wide eyes, suddenly leapt up, grabbed his backpack and raced after his sister.  
  
"Bye mom!" he called out over his shoulder, trying his best to catch up to his sister, who was running towards the bus stop.  
  
"Zoë! Wait! Wait for me!"  
  
Zoë turned around and saw her little brother running with all his might towards her. In her haste to get out of the house, she had forgotten Zack completely. Crying out, she hurried to him, picking him up off his feet.  
  
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, Zack! I totally forgot! I'm so sorry!" she hugged the little boy fiercely, all the built-up anguish and tension easing away.  
  
"Zoë, you're hurting me!"  
  
Zoë released her brother, setting him on the ground again. She wiped her face quickly, hoping Zack wouldn't see, but his keen eyes saw all too well.  
  
"Why are you crying?"  
  
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," she sniffed. "We'd better get to school. Come on."  
  
Taking her brother by the hand, she led him to the bus stop.  
  
* * *  
  
Zoë gazed dazedly at the blackboard. It was just after lunch, and for some reason, she was having trouble concentrating on the numbers chalked up on the board. Math was her favorite subject, but today, she just couldn't focus. Firstly, the teacher's explanations were kinda muffled, like Zoë was listening to him talk underwater. Secondly, when she could hear him properly, he made no sense whatsoever. She had a feeling she should have understood what he was talking about, but she didn't. Thirdly, the numbers were blurring in an odd way and she was fighting the urge to put her heavy head down on the desk and fall asleep.  
  
"Zoë? Can you help me with this problem?" her best friend, Sophia, pushed the textbook towards her.  
  
"What?" With great effort, Zoë opened her eyelids as wide as she could and looked down at the book. "Which one?"  
  
Sophia tapped the problem with her pencil, waiting for her friend to show her how to solve it. Instead, Zoë's head came crashing down onto the book.  
  
"Zoë?!" Sophia screamed, trying to lift her friend's head up. "Somebody, help! Zoë?!"  
  
* * *  
  
Zoë bit her lip as her mom pulled the covers up on her bed. She half expected Val to say, 'I told you so, didn't I?' Val, however, remained silent as she tucked her daughter in.  
  
"Try to go to sleep for awhile, OK?"  
  
Zoë nodded. Her mother's face was pale and weary looking, and she was suddenly overcome with guilt.  
  
"Mom? I didn't eat the apple. I threw it away. And I didn't have lunch either."  
  
Val nodded.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm sorry," Zoë whispered.  
  
Val sighed and stroked her daughter's blonde hair.  
  
"It's OK. Just, go to sleep."  
  
Zoë nodded again, preparing to close her eyes. A thought hit her and she forced them open again.  
  
"Who's gonna pick up Zack?"  
  
"It's all been taken care of. Don't worry."  
  
Zoe's blue eyes disappeared once again as she shut her eyelids. One more question.  
  
"Mom? Is Dad home yet?"  
  
Val's facial features hardened noticeably as she looked away from Zoë, her fingers fidgeting with the bedspread.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"No. Not yet."  
  
"But he will come home, right? Tonight?"  
  
"Shh. Go to sleep."  
  
Too tired to say anything more, Zoë obediently closed her eyes for the third time and within minutes, had fallen into a deep slumber.  
  
* * *  
  
Something had woken her, but she wasn't sure what. She sat up in bed, feeling rather light-headed and dizzy. Her room was considerably darker than when she had fallen asleep and she squinted at the clock on her bedside table. 8.57pm. She'd slept the whole afternoon away. Shuffling towards the door, she stopped as she heard it again, the commotion that had woken her. Of course, it was them. Fighting. Again. Opening the door, she stood still and simply listened.  
  
"...what kind of a mother are you?! Sending her off to school with no food!"  
  
"She didn't want to eat! What did you want me to do?! Force-feed her?!"  
  
"So you just let her not eat?!"  
  
"She took an apple with her!"  
  
"Yeah, and threw it away!"  
  
"How was I supposed to know she'd throw it away?! And if there's a reason as to why she isn't eating, it's because she's upset! She kept asking of your whereabouts! What kind of father leaves his children in the middle of the night with no explanation, returning only when he feels like it?!"  
  
"I will do whatever I want to do! It's none of your business!"  
  
A lone tear slipped down Zoë's cheek. When would it stop? Didn't they realize that they used to be such a happy couple? She stepped out into the hallway and made her way to the kitchen, the scene of the argument.  
  
"...you love your job so much that you can't even- Zoë?"  
  
Her mother stopped mid-sentence upon seeing her in the kitchen.  
  
"How are you feeling? Do you want some dinner?"  
  
"Of course she'd want dinner." Her father's lips were tight and his eyes grim as Zoë sat at the table.  
  
"No one asked you." Val's voice was quiet but loaded with venom. She set the plate of food in front of Zoë and swept wordlessly out of the kitchen.  
  
Zoë looked at the generous helpings on her plate and picked up her fork.  
  
"Eat up. You're starting to look half-starved these days," her father said jokingly, his grin not reaching his eyes.  
  
Zoë managed a weak smile in return and took a bite of potato. It was dry and bland, and her throat closed up, not allowing her to swallow. In an effort to force it down, she sipped some water.  
  
"Dad? Where did you go?" her words came out in a rush.  
  
Tyler sighed inwardly, as he ran a hand through his hair. How did he explain this? How does one say to their child that one can not stand living in their own house anymore?  
  
"I just needed a break. I needed to get out for awhile, calm down and all. I guess that didn't work," he laughed ruefully, faltering when Zoë continued to stare disbelievingly at him.  
  
"You could have told me! Why didn't you even tell me where you were going? You guys never tell me anything! And you always fight! I hate it! Why can't we just be a family again?!" She ended in a wail, her eyes overflowing with angry tears.  
  
Tyler moved to comfort his only daughter, stroking her hair as she hid her face in his shirt.  
  
"I'm sorry, princess," he said softly, using his pet name for her. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Can't you just stop? Make it stop," she wept, partially furious with herself for breaking down, but glad for the steady arms of her father.  
  
"I wish I could," Tyler whispered.  
  
* * *  
  
A week later...  
  
The only word Zoë could think of to describe the atmosphere at the dining table, was tense. Everyone was sitting in their places, even her father. It was a rare night where he had come home for dinner. Her mother was passing around the food, as per normal, and Zack was chattering happily to anyone who cared to listen about his day at school. However, her parents were silent, not arguing, but not talking either. They responded with monosyllabic answers to Zack's questions, but did not talk willingly. Zoë too, was silent, waiting on the edge of her seat for a fight to break out.  
  
She knew it would only take a single comment for her parents to be at each other's throats and was half thankful that they were not speaking to each other. If they weren't speaking, they wouldn't fight. On the other hand, the silence between them was unnerving. As if they knew a certain doom was ahead, and no amount of arguing would solve anything. Zoë didn't want to know what that doom was.  
  
Dinner was soon over, and no argument had reared its ugly head. Breathing a sigh of relief, Zoë headed off to her room. Her father's voice stopped her.  
  
"Zoë? Come back here, princess. We need to have a talk."  
  
Zoë froze and with difficulty, turned back to the kitchen.  
  
"Have a seat," her mother gestured to one of the chairs.  
  
Rigidly, Zoë sat down again. Zack was still seated at his place, his eyes wide with curiosity, obviously having no clue as to what was going on. Zoë wasn't entirely sure herself, but there was a niggling feeling inside, telling her it wasn't gonna be good. She suddenly felt extremely sick and pursed her lips together, afraid her dinner would appear on the table again, in an unrecognisable form.  
  
Val sat down at the table also, exchanging a quick look with Tyler. His face showed nothing, like all emotion had been emptied out of him. She looked away, focusing instead on her children.  
  
"Zoë, Zack," Val addressed them slowly. "Your father and I, we've been discussing some issues that are affecting our marriage, and we've been trying to sort them out, with the help of people who specialize in this sort of thing. But basically, our marriage problems can't be solved easily, and the only way they will disappear is, if we don't have a marriage at all, so, we're getting a divorce."  
  
Zoë gasped. She'd been half expecting it, slowly preparing herself for the worst of the worst, but the initial shock of the statement was still strong, hitting her hard.  
  
"No!" she looked at each of her parents, silently pleading with them to change their mind, already knowing in her heart that it was too late. "No, you can't do this!"  
  
Val glanced helplessly at Tyler.  
  
"Zoë, we haven't done this without a lot of thought. We've tried to work things out, but it's not possible. It's the best thing to do in our case, and in time, you'll see it's the best for all of us," said her father.  
  
"No! It's not the best thing! We're a family! How can it be the best thing if we're not together?!" Tears were rapidly sliding their way down her cheeks, but Zoë didn't even bother to wipe them away. "Was it me? What did I do wrong? I'll change whatever it is, if you'll only stay together! I promise I'll eat more! I won't fight with Zack ever again! Please!"  
  
Val's eyes saddened.  
  
"Oh honey, it's not you. We love you so much. You and Zack. You did nothing wrong, and you're not to blame. It's us. We can't get along anymore."  
  
"So try harder! Please!"  
  
"Trust me, we've tried. There's nothing we can do except this."  
  
Triggered by his sister's tears, Zack too started to cry, beginning to grasp what was happening. Tyler picked up his son, trying his best to comfort the confused boy.  
  
Zoë stared at her parents through a tear-filled gaze, a newfound and immense loathing for her parents rapidly rising from inside.  
  
"I hate you both!" she spat out, before stomping off to her room.  
  
Val closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her fingers, as Zack threw up his dinner.  
  
* * *  
  
A month later...  
  
The final parts of the separation were blurred together into one big hazy memory in Zoë's mind. The selling of the house, the move, saying goodbye to her friends, saying goodbye to her dad...  
  
As she sat on the cold stone steps outside the new house, Zoë couldn't help but feel sad and alone. She and her brother were staying with their mom for the time being, even though Val and Tyler had joint custody of the children. They had agreed that is was better for the kids to live with Val for the most part, visiting with Tyler on weekends and holidays.  
  
Zoë looked up and down the silent street. They had moved back to Kingsport, her mother's hometown, where her grandparents lived. Her grandparents had been glad to see them, upset about the divorce of course, but glad all the same to know their eldest and their grandchildren would be living close by.  
  
From inside the house, her mother's voice floated out.  
  
"...just didn't work. We tried, for the children's sake, but it wasn't the same."  
  
"Who would've thought? You and Connell were the dream couple."  
  
The second voice belonged to a long-time friend of her mother's, Caitie Roth, who was in town and had heard about Val moving back.  
  
Someone sat down beside her, and she turned to face her little brother.  
  
"Aunt Caitie's scaring me. She keeps looking at me weird, like she wants to eat me!" the little boy told his sister earnestly.  
  
Zoë bit back a laugh. Ever since she'd shown Zack a picture of Caitie and Val in high school, Zack had been convinced that his mother's best friend was a vampire of some sort. It didn't help that Caitie still opted for the dark make-up, even in her thirties, which consequently contrasted sharply with her pale skin.  
  
"It's OK, little one," she said absently, holding her brother close as she watched a car make its way towards their drive.  
  
The car stopped and the driver emerged. A tall, blonde woman walked over, with a sad smile on her face.  
  
"Hey, kiddoes," she said softly.  
  
Zack beamed at her, leaping into her open arms. Brooke hugged him tightly before releasing him.  
  
"You've grown since I last saw you," she remarked, smoothing back his hair.  
  
She turned to the older child, sitting on the steps.  
  
"How are you, Zo? Got a hug for your Aunt Brooke?"  
  
Zoë smiled and buried herself in Brooke's warm embrace.  
  
"I missed you," she told her aunt.  
  
"I missed you too."  
  
"And me?" Zack demanded.  
  
"Both of you. Especially you, mister!" Brooke reassured her nephew, scooping him up and walking inside the house, the sound of Zack's giggling floating back to where Zoë still stood.  
  
Zoë turned back to face the street. She'd be starting a new school here soon. She'd have to make new friends. That is, if they didn't think she was a freak. What if they all hated her? What if she wasn't up to the expected standard in class? Her thoughts whirling in her head, she retreated back inside. Outside, the late fall breeze rustled among the treetops, as the street remained ever silent.  
  
A/N. What did I tell ya? Weird or what? I think there's more to come, but with my mind, I wouldn't count on it until you actually see it posted here! (A short author's note from me! Amazing!) 


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